


In Full Colour

by zahrabane



Series: The Night Hours [Malec Codas] [2]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: A little humour, A little pain, Alec has a lot of feelings, Coda, Drunk Alec, Gay Shadowhunters Club, Immortality, M/M, Malec, Slightly Drunk Magnus, Underhill and Alec are a BrOTP of mine, drunk!Alec, mostly softness, sappy Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 09:16:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15312321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zahrabane/pseuds/zahrabane
Summary: Underhill sends Alec home in a taxi. Alec sends himself straight to Magnus’. After their fight that morning, Magnus is all he can think of. Will they be able to talk through their insecurities and the far-looming threat of Alec’s mortality in the state they’re in? 3x06 Coda full of drunk Alec feelings.





	In Full Colour

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to me beta [AlterEgon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlterEgon/pseuds/AlterEgon), and to everyone else who helped me create this fic by word warring and letting me rant about drunk Alec!
> 
> Find me on tumblr as [zahrabane](http://zahrabane.tumblr.com/%22%3E)

Alec had always hated the smell of the rain. It was such a simple, mundane scent, yet it made demon hunting that much more complicated, blurring and washing one scent into another until nothing could be individually distinguished. He breathed it in tonight, relishing in the way it dulled all his other senses. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Underhill was saying as his head spun. 

He laughed a hollow laugh, shame flooding through him. Here he was, Head of the New York Institute, letting one of his inferiors take care of his drunk, lovesick self. 

“I gotta go,” Alec said, hastening to the cab. 

“Here, let me get that,” Underhill offered, making for the door like Alec was a maiden in need of a gentleman’s chivalry. 

“I got it,” Alec insisted, fighting to maintain some shred of dignity. He thought maybe he should thank Underhill, for being there, for trying to take care of him. But in the face of Underhill’s eager friendship, all Alec could do was sink into the cab, eyes falling shut in disappointment with himself. 

“Take me home,” Alec instructed the driver with a wave. He opened his eyes to watch Underhill out the window as the cab sped away. 

It was nice to have Underhill, he thought blearily. Someone who understood. Someone like him. He really should get to know the guy’s first name in the morning. Maybe in an alternate universe he could have appreciated the man’s long stares, could have thought of joining his life with his. It would have been routine existence, a shared life of cameradie. 

“Sir, you need to tell me where your home is,” the cab driver demanded, interrupting Alec’s thoughts. 

He gave the cab driver Magnus’ address, then belatedly realized that wasn’t what he had been asked for. Nevermind, it was the only place he wanted to be right now. 

Thoughts of an alternate universe where he ended up in the peaceful embrace of another Shadowhunter blurred like an old black and white TV full of static. Magnus’ face swam beneath his fluttering eyelids in full colour. 

It had felt good in a way, having Underhill eye him. But the drunker he had got tonight, the more he had ended up wallowing in his thoughts of Magnus. Beautiful, immortal Magnus. 

 

***

 

Magnus finally returned home from his mission with Clary and he was exhausted. Physically, mentally, and emotionally, it had been one hell of a day. So he sank into his sofa, conjuring up a glass of his finest whiskey that automatically refilled itself. 

The glass was on its fourth refill, the yellow lights of the loft becoming pleasantly dull and blurry, his muscles  _ finally  _ starting to relax, when Magnus felt a push against his wards. 

It was a small ripple, the feeling of someone merely slipping past. Magnus thought he might not have noticed the familiar presence entering at all by now, had he not been thinking of him in that exact moment. 

The slight push of the wards resulted in a startling crash in the foyer, and Magnus was jerked out of his haze rather abruptly. 

“Alexander?” he called. He knew it had to be Alec. His wards were never so gentle with anyone else. It was just that him and Alec were fighting, and Magnus was very busy broodily pondering their fight over whiskey. And Shadowhunters usually didn’t arrive with such ungraceful crashing noises unless there were demons involved. But surely there weren’t any demons in his loft. 

“Alec,” he called again, this time resigning himself to emerging from his warm cocoon to investigate why, exactly, his Shadowhunter boyfriend was causing such a ruckus when he was trying to brood. 

He arrived to the sight of Alec steadying himself on the wall. 

“Magnus!” he exclaimed, making to move towards him, but then thinking the better of it and grabbing for the wall again as he lurched forward. 

“Alexander, are you… drunk?” Magnus asked, though the answer was very obviously in front of him in the form of his slightly swaying boyfriend. 

“It’s all Underhill’s fault!” Alec proclaimed. 

“Underhill?” That sounded suspiciously like one of those dreadful Shadowhunter names. 

“My gay friend!” 

Magnus blinked in utter disbelief. Was Alec Lightwood, Head of the New York Institute, going through a drunk gay party phase? If so, Magnus couldn’t help but slightly approve. Maybe loosening up a bit after all those years of repression would be good for Alec. Whoever this Underhill was, Magnus thought he might want to be friends with him too. 

“My Shadowhunter gay friend,” Alec clarified. He seemed to ponder that statement, realization crossing his face. “Maybe we should form a club.”

“A gay Shadowhunters club?” Magnus blinked in disbelief.

Magnus was a little drunk, sure, but he was  _ not _ drunk enough for this. Therefore, he would have to be the responsible one tonight. Magnus sighed. He was growing rather tired of having to be the responsible one for all these Shadowhunters. Just because he was old didn’t mean he had the fortitude or the willpower to stop Alec from using Institute funds for creating a gay Shadowhunters club. In fact, drunk or not, Magnus rather liked the idea. That might show the Clave and their archaic ideas…

“That doesn’t matter anyway,” Alec said, finally managing to stumble over to Magnus. “I came to talk to you.”

“Alexander, I don’t know if now is really the best time…”

Alec grabbed Magnus’ hand, holding it between both of his own, and Magnus felt an unbidden rush of affection for his Shadowhunter, no matter how drunk he was. 

“We have to talk before it’s too late,” Alec insisted. Too late for what, Magnus didn’t want to ask. 

“Why don’t you come to bed?” Magnus suggested gently. “We can talk in the morning. Maybe I can make breakfast this time.” He tugged Alec’s hand softly in the direction of the bedroom, careful to walk slowly so Alec wouldn’t fall down again. 

“Magnus,” Alec yawned, nearly falling as he moved his other hand to cover his face. “I have to tell you how I feel.” 

“Okay,” Magnus agreed, trying to placate him. His curiosity was piqued, that much was true. Trying to read how Alec felt sometimes was like trying to read between the lines of a poem in a language he only vaguely knew. There were so many layers and signs he was still learning to interpret. But now really wasn’t the time to unravel his boyfriend, not when he was this intoxicated and vulnerable. “How about we get settled into bed first?”

“Okay,” Alec agreed, a soft smile on his face as Magnus led him to the bed. His expression darkened the moment Magnus met his eyes. “But I have to tell you how I feel.” 

“Right.” Magnus knew there was no use arguing with Alec once he got something in his head. He removed Alec’s jacket carefully, hoping Alec might just fall asleep so they could talk properly in the morning. His own head was spinning, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold it together. 

Alec collapsed right into the middle of the bed, kicking off his shoes with some difficulty. He stared at the ceiling, his hand reaching out for Magnus to join him. 

Magnus laid down on the bed carefully, trying to give Alec space. But Alec gravitated towards him, shoulders bumping with Magnus, maneuvering his arm under Magnus’ neck until they were wrapped up in each other. 

Magnus closed his eyes as Alec snuggled into him, willing this to be any other night where they could just be themselves. Where they could be this physically close, without everything else pulling them apart and making Alec feel so far away, even as he was right here in Magnus’ own bed. 

“I love you Magnus,” Alec started. “You’re all I could think about tonight.”

Magnus was speechless. So Alec Lightwood was a sappy drunk. Who would’ve thought?

“I love you too, Alexander,” Magnus replied carefully. No matter their fight, Magnus knew at least that much was true. 

“But I don’t know how to stay with you forever without sacrificing who I am.” Alec stated this simply, lucidly, like he had thought of it far before he had started drinking. 

So he did want to talk about the immortality then. Magnus felt fear clench his heart. He wasn’t ready to talk about this. And he didn’t think this was a discussion they should be having when Alec was in this condition, when  _ either  _ of them had been drinking. Emotions ran high enough when it came to his immortality, and all Magnus wanted to do in this moment was to calm Alec down, to just let them  _ be  _ in this moment. 

“Shhhh, Alexander,” Magnus soothed, resting his cheek on Alec’s shoulder. “I would never ask you to give up your career, your identity, your  _ family  _ for me. A lifetime with you is more than I could hope for.”

Magnus had meant the words to be comforting, but Alec half sat-up, looked absolutely horrified. 

“You don’t understand. The thing that terrifies me Magnus, is that I don’t  _ want _ to ever leave you.” 

He looked at Magnus imploringly, like he was trying to tell him something very important. Alec was all earnestness, and while Magnus knew these confessions were alcohol induced, he didn’t doubt their sincerity. Alcohol didn’t make a liar of a man like Alec Lightwood. 

Magnus stared back at him in the dim warm light of their bedroom in absolute confusion. 

“I don’t know what I would ever do if you ever died and left me to live on forever without you,” Alec insisted. “It would be hell.” 

Magnus felt some sort of understanding crack the barrier in between them. In that moment, Alec had never seemed more Nephilim, more different from him.  _ Of course  _ separating even after a lifetime would be unfathomable to a Shadowhunter. They were operating on entirely different understandings of what a relationship was. 

Another thought intruded Magnus’ thoughts, shooting him straight through the heart. 

What if he wanted Alec to stay forever?

That had never been a possibility for Magnus before. His only immortal relationship had ended in heartbreak, had been full of it from the start. Perhaps that was why he had shied away from the idea of everlasting love, had associated it with nothing but pain. 

But Alec was not Camille. 

He was much more gentle with Magnus’ heart. He was also much more mortal. 

Magnus looked into Alec’s eyes, feeling his glamour slip. His vision blurred. He fought to keep a tear from falling, his golden eyes meeting Alec’s hazel ones. Alec’s eyes were begging for an answer, begging for Magnus to say  _ something _ . 

As old and as wise as Magnus was, he didn’t have any answers. 

“Alexander,” Magnus began carefully, “these aren’t things we have to figure out in the first few months of being together. You may think your life seems like a blink of the eye to me, but the truth is, we have decades to figure this out together.” 

“Decades,” Alec whispered blissfully. “Decades with you.” He sank back down onto the bed, bringing Magnus into his arms. Magnus could tell Alec was fading in and out of consciousness, and he wondered how much of this he would remember in the morning. 

“If you aren’t sick of me by then,” Magnus half-teased.

“I could never be sick of you, Magnus Bane.” 


End file.
